


The Grace of Failure

by Masked_Rose



Series: Heroes of Fate [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Link Has PTSD, Multi, Rating May Change, Slow Updates, fight scenes are the bane of my existence, im terrible with tags will figure out as i go, little angsty, not edited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25095535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masked_Rose/pseuds/Masked_Rose
Summary: One hundred years ago, Calamity Ganon attacked Hyrule, killing the four champions, and gravely wounding the legendary hero. Since then, the princess has fought Ganon alone while Link is revived, at the cost of his memories.One year ago, Erra and her family were attacked, leaving her alone, scared, and with no memory of the previous years. Since then, she has worked to defend what remains of the people of Hyrule while trying to figure out what happened.When Link finally awakens, the impending threat of Ganon forces the two to work together, but with the constant guilt over their previous failure, her fear of her own past, and the doubts in each other's worth as a hero, will they be able to even face their first Divine Beast?
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Series: Heroes of Fate [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733776
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	The Grace of Failure

** Link-Great  Plateau **

Fear had prompted them into action. Fear had them using the tree branch like a sword. Deftly and quickly dispatching the creature—the bokoblin, as a voice, different from the one that had woken them, reminded. Fear of something they didn’t quite understand. Or maybe it was remember. They didn’t even remember how they knew how to use a sword. 

The old man was watching. His attempts to be subtle weren’t enough for them—but why? And why did it make them hide the way their hands shook when the branch broke, leaving them without a weapon. Repress the urge to be sick when the creature—bokoblin—seemed to melt into a purple liquid. 

You have to be brave. Can’t show fear. Can’t show weakness. 

They needed a weapon, something more durable than a stick, before they could find—what even were they looking for? Just following the orders of a random voice? 

No. No focus. One thing at a time. 

A weapon. 

Shaking their head to clear it, they saw the glint of metal, and their heart beat just a little faster. A sword, sticking out of the ground. Out of a pedestal? 

_ They had traveled so far into the forest  _ _ now; _ _ would they even be able to find their way back? But no, there it was. The sword. Just like they’d all said, it really existed. As they approached, it was like the forest itself was holding its breath, a thousand eyes watching them... _

_ Brilliant light surrounded them, the darkness that had trapped them in this shape forced out. The remains of it held in her hand... _

No. They were alone, save the old man and animals. And they weren’t in a forest, they were on the edge of a cliff overlooking a pond. And there was no grand  pedestal . Just the rock structure in the middle of it all.

So what was that?

Memories maybe? But were they supposed to feel so...old? Foreign? 

They shook their head again and jumped.

**Erra-The Dueling Peaks**

She grunted as a rock hit the shield, which was already flimsy at best, and barely missed the  octorock . Why didn’t she have a bow  again? Had there even been one of these here before the last blood moon?

The Goddess-less thing popped back up, and she braced again. Thank  Hylia this one hit. Even if it meant a quicker end for this shield. At least the merchants would have one less thing to deal with on this path.

But there hadn’t been any  octorocks here last time. Only the small  bokoblin encampment she’d been on her way to deal with for the countless time this year alone.

She readjusted the scarf over her nose as she started back towards them. Something was changing.  Impa had said it herself. Powers were stirring again in Hyrule. Even she could feel them, feel it. It’s what had her moving so slowly, so carefully towards the cheering group today.  Bokoblins were easy,  but, there  definitely hadn’t been six here before. And there  definitely hadn’t been a blue one.

“ Hylia , I beg for your protection,” she breathed. Crouching in the grass behind the slight outcropping, she whistled, drawing the attention of one.

The reds were easy enough, though the blue one joined the fray with the last one, and they got a few good hits in before they dissolved into the pools of malice in the water as well. Their own faults really for setting camp up so close to it. One had broken her shield though.

Cleaning her blade off in the grass, she gathered what they’d left behind in her  elixir bag. They hadn’t been cooking any food, shame really, but she hadn’t given them much time to grab their weapons either. She smiled as she felt the weight of a staff they’d left behind. Cheaply made, but not a bad idea to have on hand, and—hello. Yes, thank  Hylia !

The piece of wood wasn’t much better than what she’d had before, but anything at all was far better than nothing for a shield.

And they had a cooking pot.

She lit the fire, before adding in the  ingredients for a hearty elixir and letting herself collapse against the log. Those ones, plus the two out there...that made nine monsters already today. And she could feel it. Downing the remains of the potion she’d been saving was, truthfully a nightmare. But whatever magic worked itself into these things, worked quickly through her. Her arm felt stiff, but the bruise from the damned rock was healing, the cut from the  bokoblins stung, but no longer bled... yes, she could deal with the awful taste if it kept her alive. She glanced at the pot, and the absurdity of creating it. Tipping the contents into the bottle, she followed the stream.

Something splashed through the water, moving faster than the stream. No two somethings.

Lizalfos ? Here? Now?

Someone else was moving along the other bank of the river, a merchant. Though they were too far to be sure, the ones around Dueling Peak rarely carried weapons.

With a groan, she dove into the water.

**Link-Great Plateau**

They screamed in  frustration as the blade snapped in two, like every other weapon they’d picked up. Even if it had felt wrong, anything was better  than being exposed. Defenseless, weak, vulnerable to attack, to defeat. To death.

_ Red light  _ _ homing in _ _ on them, a glowing blue dot. “No!” _

A shudder ran through them, eyes opening just in time to see the  bokoblin raise its club over their head. Their hand closed around the weapon the other had dropped, swinging just in time to block.

The world seemed to slow then. Their own movements coming from memory, and quickly. Faster  than the creature even had time to stagger backward. One final blow and it fell backward, defeated, and already  vanishing .

What was that?

Yet another question to be dealt with when they were safe. Or at least safer. If that was even possible.

With a shake of their head, they picked up the bow that had been dropped, and the sling of arrows. Not many  left , but enough. Did they even know how to use these?  Of course, they did. The bow felt right, familiar even.

_ Ghosts and skeletons and hands! What was next? Her voice still called out to them but was she even still... _ _ no. _ __ _ No, _ _ they couldn’t think like that. They had to keep going forward. Had to save her. This bow would help, they could get farther now. Get past... _

Those had to stop. Too distracting.

They brushed off the dirt and sweat from the battle and continued towards the cave. The one the voice and the... sheikah slate had directed them to. The one that reminded them of what they had woken up in. 

No. Brave.

Squaring their shoulders, they walked  in, and towards the  pedestal in the middle. The orange glow in the center was just big enough for the slate. Was this a trap? But no, they had recognized the voice. At least, it had seemed familiar. Surely it could be trusted. 

Cautiously, they placed the slate. It flipped over, and the top spun. The center sunk in and all of it glowed.

Then everything started shaking.

**Erra-Dueling Peaks**

Collapsing against the mountainside, she downed part of the elixir and watched the  lizalfo dissolve. If she never had to deal with their poison again, it would be too soon. Far too soon. 

The merchant had disappeared when she had appeared. Whether from mistaking the eye symbol on her  armor , or realizing the danger, didn’t really matter. Safe was safe. So why did it still sting when people ran?

Another group of  bokoblins were celebrating across the river.

She should be much farther along this  circuit already. She shouldn’t be panting against the cliff face already. She shouldn’t have lost two shields already. She  _ shouldn’t _ rest now.

But  Goddess was she tired.

Sliding down the rock, she wrung out her white hair, a prayer already springing to her lips.  “Goddesses hear me as I turn to you now. This land you created, this land you protect, through the eras has faced hardships, through the eras has prevailed. I beg, Din, your fires burn bright and strong, and I ask for that strength to pass these trials. Nayru, your rivers flow with the wisdoms of ages past, and I ask for that wisdom to find the true path. Farore, your winds whisper with tales of the courageous, and I ask for that courage to do what is right. Hylia, you give light-” Her hollow laugh cut the prayer short. “Light? Where is that light now? Where has it been? One hundred years and this world has fallen into darkness. Your people are scattered and hardly remember you. Is that what you wanted? Even the hero you sent failed.”

The base of the  plateau was shrouded in mist, a final protection for the great hero as they recovered. Or so  Impa had said. One hundred years and for all she knew it was a way to keep the final secret of the once-great Hyrule: the hero was dead, and so was their hope.

No, she can’t think like that. The Princess was still fighting. If their hope really was dead, then  Ganon would already have returned. Already have destroyed everything. Or at least what remained of everything.

Her eyes fell on the castle. Broken and run down and  destroyed , the very symbol of light reduced to a symbol of-

“What the-” She was on her feet in a second, stepping forward, towards the castle. Towards a light. How is that even possible? "Princess?"

Movement out of the corner of her eye had her spinning with the blade ready. A traveler had their hands up, perhaps the merchant from before, staring back shocked. But not  frightened . “You’re a little jumpy. I was hoping could help me.”

“I don’t recognize you, are you a merchant?” She didn’t drop the sword. People didn’t normally sneak up on her.

“You recognize everyone in Hyrule?” She didn’t answer. “Alright, I lied. Talent like yours, I was hoping to help you. An offer.”

“Drop your disguise.”

“Quick one  aren’t you,” they snapped, before the cloud of smoke. The light and pop behind her  was just enough warning to catch their blade with her own. “You should feel flattered!”

They popped away again.

She was faster and cut across where they appeared.

Pop.

Slash.

Again, and again, until finally she knocked the blade from their hand and pinned them to the wall.  “Your kind don’t leave your hideout. What’s changed?”

“Traitor!” They spat.

“I’m the traitor? You abandoned the Goddess and murdered your own kind!”

She dug the blade a little deeper at their laugh. “You really believe the  Sheikah were so innocent in that, don’t  you. Doesn’t matter, soon everything will fall. Everything will-”

The world started to shake.

Losing her balance, she was forced to let them go, their laugh ringing in her ears as they vanished.

Rocks were falling around her.

On shaky legs she moved from between the peaks, only to see the orange tower rising across the river. “Hylia save us.” It looked just like the tapestry. But...that could only mean...

There was a tower on the  Plateau . And the color changed from orange to blue as she watched. They’re alive. The hero. The hero’s alive.

“Link.” She stepped forward, as if to greet them, but no.  Impa needed to be informed first, needed to be ready.

The ground shook again. Light was coming from the castle. And then the castle was swallowed by a dark cloud.

Malice.

Ganon.

She had to hurry.


End file.
